The Weaving
by AnthonyS
Summary: Slung through space and time, hunter Rebo must now contend with the threats of a whole new land and even deadlier enemies. Can the combined efforts of the Capital Wasteland send him home or is he forever stuck in a strange and ruined land?


CHAPTER 1

The Monolith

"You want to go down there? Truly?" Talo asked, his ears unbelieving.

Rebo looked toward his Bosmer companion, the corners of his mouth turned permanently downward. "We have our orders, Talo. That is where the vampire lord resides and that is where we must go."

"I still don't like it," Talo said his pointed ears twitching in the cold. Snow flurried around them, swirling in the wind.

"Honestly, Talo, how you made it this far in the Order is beyond me," Tyrog said. The Orc stood taller than his two companions and carried a heavy, double-bladed axe. Yellow-stained tusks pointed out from his lower lip and his brow was set in a permanent scowl. "The vampire lord has plagued the Pale for too long. He must be destroyed."

"Okay, okay," Talo said. He turned toward Rebo, his companion's grayish Dunmer skin glowing in the firelight. "I'm with you."

"I'm glad to hear you say that. Divines know I could use your bow by my side. Come," Rebo said. "Let us kill a vampire."

"A whole nest more likely," Tyrog snorted.

Rebo lit their torches with a simple fire spell, little more than a snap of his fingers, and led them into the mouth of the cave. The rocky walls glistened with sweat from the ice and a foul smell scented the air. Rebo pulled his scarf around his nose and led them with the point of his sword and the light of his torch. His eyes were forever roaming the gloom. If they could slay this lord, they could forever free the Pale from his demonic shadow. All those he had turned would regain their former selves and Skyrim would once again be free of this undead plague.

They traversed deep into the cave, their hearts hammering within their chests. Their hands, however, were completely steady. Talo walked with an arrow notched upon his bow and Tyrog gripped his axe firmly with each of his hands. His breath fogged in front of his lips. Voices slowly greeted their ears, little more than raspy whispers, and Rebo halted them. He pointed down a nearby passageway and his companions nodded their understanding.

Talo crept toward the corner, beside Rebo, and peeked around it. There were four of them gathered around a long wooden table, their skin white as snow and their eyes black as night. A corpse laid upon the table between them, the Argonian's blood seeping down the side and pooling around it. They had just finished feeding, the blood still fresh upon their chins and around their lips. Their fangs practically shined in the darkness.

Rebo gave a reassuring nod and Talo aimed with his bow. The arrow flew silently through the air and pierced the largest one between the eyes. He fell to the ground with a crash and his three companions howled. They honed in on their attackers' scents almost immediately and sprinted toward them. Talo let another arrow fly, hitting a female vampire in the shoulder and staggering her. After a moment, she kept running, however. Rebo and Tyrog lunged to meet them. Blade bit into flesh and Rebo suddenly stared eye-to-eye with one of his prey. The vampiric Breton snarled at him and pushed hard against his blade, even as it sliced into his flesh. His fangs pointed toward Rebo's throat. The female vampire, the arrow still sticking out from her shoulder, lunged at his from behind. Kicking out backward, Rebo knocked her away, and a second shot from Talo's bow ended her undead life. Tyrog's axe took the third one's head clean off, saving them from the task later, and without a second breath knocked the one away from Rebo's sword. Both swinging outward, Tyrog and Rebo bit deep into the creature's flesh and knocked it to the ground. A final swing from Rebo's sword took its head off as well. Two more downward thrusts from Tyrog's axe took the other two vampire's heads off. They would burn the bodies later.

Rebo wiped the blood from his sword and picked his torch up from the ground – he'd lost it upon first attacking the vampires. They breathed heavily and took a moment to collect themselves, the adrenaline still coursing through their veins.

After several moments, Rebo nodded to his companions. "Are we ready? There are far more hidden in these caves and probably more powerful."

His companions nodded wordlessly and they headed deeper. They came to a wooden bridge crossing a deep, wide chasm. Three more vampires awaited them, easily dispatched over the side of the bridge. They wouldn't be able to decapitate them properly or burn their corpses, but hopefully a hundred meter drop would do the trick, Rebo thought to himself bitterly. Still, it managed to quirk the corners of his mouth upward slightly.

The cave narrowed considerably the deeper they went and slowly the walls turned to ice. They crept carefully until they finally came upon a large, iron door. Strange, script writing was engraved around its edge and Rebo shined his torch around it.

"What is it?" Tyrog asked. Rebo's eyes widened, realization slowly dawning upon him.

"Daedric."

"What?"

"It's Daedric. This was crafted for one of the Daedric princes. I can't be sure which one," Rebo said stepped back.

"We are not dealing with any normal vampire lord," Tyrog said.

"I told you we never should have come here," Talo said. "We need an entire garrison for this. We must contact the Order. Tell them what we have found."

"We can't turn back now," Rebo said. "We've come too far."

"But if this vampire is serving the Daedra there's no telling what we might encounter," Talo argued further.

"I agree with him," Tyrog said. "And Malacath knows I'd never agree with a Bosmer."

"Come on, Rebo. We should get out of here. Live to fight another day, right? Isn't that what old lady Fairfeather used to tell us."

"I'm not turning back," Rebo said pointedly. "We either push on together or I push on alone, but either way I am not leaving."

"You Dunmer really are the most stubborn of all races," Tyrog said. "Fine, we continue."

"Talo?" Rebo asked looking toward his Bosmer companion. The wood elf glanced up and down the passageway, sweat hot upon his forehead despite the cold, his knuckles white against his bow.

"Okay," he said. "Let's continue."

"A poor choice," a voice suddenly came from the darkness behind them. Talo turned around sharply, a clawed hand closing around his throat and lifting him clear off the ground. He was suddenly thrown at his two companions, crashing against them. Tyrog fell hard to the ground, but Rebo managed to regain his balance. He stood just as the shadow came from out of the darkness. A man with long black hair and red eyes stepped into the light of his torch. His lips were turned upward in a devilish smile and he stood taller than even Tyrog.

"You should have turned when you had the chance," the vampire lord said.

"Under oath from the Order of Light, we are here to be your heralds to the afterlife, foul creature," Rebo said. He tossed his torch to the ground, and with an outward swipe of his hand, threw a powerful fireball straight at his prey. The vampire lord flicked it aside like a meager firefly, but not before Rebo had leapt through the air, his blade arcing down toward the vampire's shoulder. He sidestepped the sword easily and Rebo spun, bringing it back around to the side. Cold, white fingers caught the blade mid-swing, however, holding it firmly and bringing a gasp to Rebo's lips. The vampire just smiled. Tyrog suddenly came lunging forward, his axe on a death course toward the vampire lord's head. He held out his other hand, though, and Tyrog suddenly stopped. His axe dropped to his feet, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. The vampire turned back to Rebo.

"Let him go," Rebo spat. "He will not be your slave."

"He already is, though. You all are." Then, the blade suddenly began to melt, and the handle heated up so hotly Rebo was forced to drop it to the ground.

The vampire simply smiled again and struck Rebo hard in the side of the head, sending him flying against the nearby wall like little more than a ragdoll. He hit hard and tumbled to the ground, his last conscious thought of several more vampires approaching from the darkness and their lord uttering one simple command:

"Feed."

* * *

Rebo awoke to the unmistakable sound of breaking bone and tearing flesh. His vision was spotty and he blinked to clear the haziness from his head. Several vampires were crouched around Tyrog, tearing the flesh from his bones and draining the blood from his body.

"No," Rebo tried to get out, though it was little more than a groan. His head ached and he tried desperately to rise to his feet. Beside him, Talo lay as well, unharmed save the welt on the side of his head. He slowly stirred awake as well.

"The time has come, my children. They are finally awake. You are done feeding. Leave us." The vampire lord's voice pierced the darkness and the other vampire's stopped feeding. They left Tyrog laying on the ground and left the chamber, the wooden door shutting behind them. Rebo shook the last of the haze from his head and looked around. They were in a circular chamber with a giant stone arch standing before them. It dominated the room and Rebo felt his lips part. Daedric was scrawled across it and a strange sort of mist clung to the air between the arch.

"Behold the monolith of Arazul," the lord said stepping into view. He was now dressed in some sort of strange ceremonial robe, the hood pulled back, and a golden rope tied around his waist. "A joint construction between each of the Daedric princes. It has been lost for millennia and all records of it have been erased from existence. Only the Elder Scrolls still speak of its existence, but they are kept under such watchful eye none know of its existence, none since the Dwemer."

"The Dwemer?" Rebo asked. Talo slowly regained consciousness beside him, raising to his knees.

"Yes. They too discovered its whereabouts, but not understanding its true power and trying to conquer it with steam and logic, they were forever destroyed. We are not about to make the same mistake, I assure you, for I have read the Daedric script, I have followed their ancient instructions, and I will be the one to finally use it for its true purpose."

"Its true purpose? What are you talking about? What does it do?"

"It gives us access to whole other worlds where the Daedric princes can finally expand their realm. In return, I will have a new crop of fledglings to do my bidding. I yearn for fresh-tasting blood. They will finally give it to me."

"You've lost your mind," Rebo said willing himself to stand tall. The vampire lord turned, however, and with an outward swipe of his palm, forced Rebo back to his knees. His magic was too powerful for Rebo to resist.

"On the contrary, I am about to gain the minds of every soul these other realms have to offer." The vampire lord slowly treaded forward toward the pair. "And they shall tremble at the name of the Daedric princes and at the name of the one who led them back into the greatness they deserve . . . Lord Bantagony."

Rebo struggled to stand once more, but it was as if a great anvil was pressing down upon either shoulder, forcing him toward the ground. Beside him, Talo had finally regained his wits and stood just as the vampire lord halted before them. He snatched Talo up off the ground, holding him by his hunting vest, and stared down at Rebo.

"Witness the power of the Daedra combined with the might of a vampire lord," he said. His jowls suddenly widened revealing a row of huge fangs. Rebo screamed. So did Talo, but a moment later his fangs clamped down on Talo's throat, ending his scream in a muffled, blood-ridden gargle. He twitched as his blood dripped and toward the ground. Bantagony sucked for several long moments, before finally releasing Talo's throat and allowing his blood to flow freely toward the ground. That was when Rebo noticed the engravings around the arch. The blood seeped into the small cracks and formed a sort of image around them. Rebo's whole body shook as he struggled against the magic pressing down on him.

"Your efforts to resist are futile, Dunmer," Bantagony said dropping Talo's body to the ground. A chord in Rebo's body suddenly snapped, a fire erupting within the pit of his stomach. Behind Bantagony the arch took on a shimmering glow. An image slowly formed, though it was still foggy and distorted. "I will soon be the most powerful Nosferatu this realm and any other has ever seen. With your two bloods combined the gate will finally open as it was meant to generations ago."

He stopped in front of Rebo. Rebo stared up at him, his fingers practically burning red they were so hot.

Bantagony's fangs extended once more. "Accept it."

"Not if my ancestors can help it," Rebo said.

And with that a great fire suddenly erupted all around him, knocking Bantagony backward and breaking the spell around Rebo. Propelling himself forward, Rebo tackled the vampire lord through the archway and they both fell into a bright abyss, their world suddenly left far behind. Rebo tried to close his hands around Bantagony's throat, but he felt himself ripped away. A ringing filled his ears, overwhelming all other senses, and nearly knocking him unconscious. He felt his body change, as if it was ripped apart and then put back together, before finally dropping him into open air. The bright light suddenly faded and he fell hard upon a rocky surface. The breath was sucked from his lungs and he barely managed to keep his eyes open. Everything was grey. No, not grey, just . . . different. His arm was stuck beneath his body, his other lying flat across the ground. His fingers felt numb and his legs tingled all over. Managing to roll over onto his back, Rebo looked up toward a distant sky, clouds parting to reveal a bright sun overhead. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was still on his own world. The ritual had not been completed.

Something suddenly whirred to life beside him, like an ancient Ayleid stone charging up, and he suddenly found himself staring down the sights of some strange metal weapon. Or at least that's what he figured it to be. Its end was hot as it neared the side of his head and smoke poured from its three holes at the end. Its wielder was a strange figure covered in metal. The helmet had a black visor where Rebo guessed the person saw out of, though how he didn't understand. Its eyes were completely invisible.

"Don't move," the person said. Its voice was strange, almost like it was speaking from beneath a set of bed sheets.

"Sentinel Lyons, you'd better get over here," it said in a much quieter voice, though who it was speaking to was a mystery. No one else was around. That's when Rebo finally got a good look around. Tall, ruined buildings stretched toward the sky in all directions. A set of stairs led down into the nearby ground and strange, metal carriages lined the street, though they were largely destroyed. At least he supposed they were carriages. They looked awfully heavy for a horse to draw them. Around a nearby corner another person walked, two other metal-encased beings walking behind her. At least the leader, Sentinel Lyons he supposed, wasn't wearing a helmet. She looked to be Imperial, or at least human in nature. She had blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and hardest eyes. She was obviously a soldier, though for what cause Rebo couldn't be certain. It was obvious he was no longer in his own realm. What messed up world had he fallen into and what had happened to leave it in such disrepair.

The woman, Lyons stopped in front of him. "You want to tell me what kind of radiation poisoning does that to a person's skin?" she asked pointedly, indicating his flesh, though Rebo wasn't sure what she meant by 'radiation poisoning', or what she thought was wrong with his skin. Then it dawned on him. They didn't have Dunmer here. She must've found his appearance disgusting. Then again, if she did she was hiding it well.

"Or better yet, why you're so deep inside Brotherhood-controlled territory?" she continued.

"Brotherhood-controlled territory?" Rebo couldn't help but ask.

"Geez, did you take a whack on the head or something? The Brotherhood of Steel. You're deep inside our territory and with skin like that you're lucky we didn't take you for a runt mutie."

"I . . . I don't understand."

"Where the hell are you from?" Sentinel Lyons asked.

"I . . ."

"Scratch that, do you even know where you are?" she asked seeing the utter confusion in his eyes. He simply shook his head. "Washington, D.C. - what used to be the government stronghold of the United States. Otherwise known as the Capital Wasteland."


End file.
